Savage
by Heathocracy
Summary: Rated M for Mature. Everyone assumed that those impacted by the Night Howlers had no memory or lasting effects from it. They were wrong.
1. Lust

**A/N: Rated M for Mature.**

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 **Chapter 1: Lust**

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Stanley didn't know himself anymore, and it scared him. The Night Howler event changed the tiger somehow…on a deeper level than anyone could understand. Even _he_ didn't fully understand. Even after the antidote was made and treatment was given, he never returned to _normal._

Normal was gone.

Sitting on the subway, like any other day, Stanley watched as she entered at the next stop. If it were a year prior, she may have never caught the tiger's gaze. She would have entered and exited without him noticing, most likely due to him being tied up in his phone, or reading a book. But today…now… _he_ was different. The dark memories from the event mixed with feelings, urges, instincts, and _desires_ he had never felt before.

She entered: a young, beautiful deer. She was probably in her early 20s, her fur a light shade of brown with white spots on her cheeks and her eyes a darker, entrancing amber. She wore a simple dark green blouse and had a matching skirt covering most of her hind legs. She wouldn't gain much attention from the others on the subway, but to him…no. Not him. It wasn't _him_.

He found himself unable to pull his eyes from her. His eyes, a tiger's eyes, locked onto her. A _predator's_ eyes. As she moved through the car, he watched her closely. He could see her lithe form moving in heightened detail, every muscle under her fur flexing and relaxing as she moved. She was completely unaware of his presence, swaying her neck as she walked. With each step, her neck pulled his attention, the exposed fur and her form grabbing him in ways he never allowed himself to dream.

Slowly, he began to inhale through his nose, taking in the smells of all those around him. Living in the city, those with a heightened sense of smell learned to ignore certain things like the smell of gas or the stench of garbage. However, the scent of other mammals was always one of the hardest to ignore. Especially when you had been through what _Stanley_ had been through.

The scents of all the mammals around him were clear, even distinguishable to his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking each scent separately.

 _Badger, towards the front of the car, poorly applied Musk Mask._

 _Rhino that left two stops ago, leaving the gym._

 _Female fox, in heat, towards the back._

The final scent, the newest in the subway car, came to him. _Deer._ The scent of the young doe filled his senses as he focused on it, opening his eyes to see her again. It was subtle, airy, fresh, and would likely go largely unnoticed by other passengers. Stanley noticed. No, not Stanley. It wasn't _him_.

His eyes focused on her. She was blissfully unaware of his gaze, his thoughts, or his _intentions_. He took in her form as she gracefully took her seat across from him. She was _beautiful_. Every part of her was perfect, from her deep eyes, her larger ears that seemed to pan around to take in the sounds of the car, the curve of her neck to her shoulders, the shape of her frame which was visible through her clothing. All of it only served to pique his interest, lighting him aflame with feelings he didn't fully understand.

After all, why would a tiger find such beauty in _prey_?

Heat began to rise in his core, flushing through his body as he looked on at her, indulging his senses. A tickle of something different played in his chest, sparking an itch he had no idea how to scratch. His eyes moved down her slowly, taking in her figure, down further to the fur exposed on her legs. Sitting down had caused her skit to move up slightly, exposing more of the soft white spots in her fur to his sight. The taut muscles underneath of her fur were lean, long, _amazing_ to him. No…no. It _wasn't him_.

Something in his mind began to run away from him, taking liberties in his imagination. Everyone else in the subway car seemed to vanish from his perception, leaving only her…and him. Her scent was much stronger to him now, as if she were the only other mammal alive in his world. He focused on her, pulling away her clothing and seeing her exposed before him. His paws tingled from the thought of feeling her fur under them, slowly taking in the sensations of her figure. The itch was amplified as he thought of putting his maw near her neck, breathing her scent in, _consuming_ it. The thought stoked the fire enveloping his body, the hunger clawing in his mind.

The fantasy continued, running his paws over her body as she breathed heavily. Her scent increased as her body began to warm up under his touch. He lowered his mouth to the bend of her incredible neck, overwhelming his senses as his whiskers brushed against her. The electric feeling of each hair touching her fur drove him further away from sanity. Slowly opening his mouth, he let his large tongue move over the fur of her neck, tracing all the way up towards her ear. The taste of her fur and scent combined for Stanley, tickling his senses. With each lick, her moan from his action spurred him on. He stopped for a moment, cupping her face with his much larger paw. He looked into her amber eyes and saw trepidation and uncertainty, even fear. He lightly kissed her, careful not to overwhelm her with his size, before lowering his maw back to her neck. His paws began to move again over her body, finding every part of her as pleasing as the last. Her muscles tensed under him, relaxing as he moved on.

The scent continued to grow. The _fire_ in him continued to grow. _No...not me. It isn't me._

He continued claiming her body as his paws roamed over her hips, down her amazing legs, feeling her thighs and the soft fur there. She began to tremble under him, closing her eyes as he found the hidden and untouched parts of her form. He continued moving his tongue over her neck, up to the base of her ears and down to her shoulders. Stanley found himself hungry for her beauty, never wanting to stop tasting her, smelling her, _devouring_ her.

Her breaths were rapid, light gasps escaping her as he ravaged her body with his mouth and paws. His desire grew and burned inside him, threatening to destroy him if he didn't continue. His mind was completely overcome by it, and he let himself go as he inhaled her scent, consuming her beauty, _feasting_ on their pleasure. He opened his mouth, taking her neck in it as he slowly let his teeth graze over her fur, dragging ever so slightly against her skin as she moaned. His claws extended, emulating his teeth as they moved over her body, ever so slightly pulling at her fur and skin as he moved. There was nothing left in him but desire, longing for the taste of her, the heat from her body, the scent of her pleasure driving him wild. _No, it's not me. It is_ not _me…_

And then came the scream.

The scream came from her mouth into his ear as his teeth sank deeper into her neck, causing her pain. The taste of her neck changed as blood began to trickle into his mouth. The feeling of his claws against her skin became rougher as they began to sink deeper, pulling harder. Her scent of pleasure was quickly replaced with one of fear, but it only served to fill him with more desire.

 _Prey._

She reached her cloven hoof to his neck to move him back, pushing against him, fighting him.

 _Mine._

He growled deeply and used his paws to pull her arms away, seeing her hooves covered in bluish liquid from his fur. The nightmare of reality ripped through his mind, quickly overpowered by primal urges that would not be denied.

 _Attack._

He had no control left, no ability to stop himself.

 _Kill._

Everything in him screamed to stop, but his body would not obey. The hunger commanded him to claw harder, bite harder, _consume her._

 _Devour._

The taste of blood filled his maw as he clamped his jaws on her neck, hearing her scream again as the life began to drain from her.

Stanley's eyes snapped open. The subway car had come to a stop, and he looked forward as he saw the doe stand and make her way out. She was blissfully unaware of his presence as she went about her business. He looked on, dumbfounded by his own thoughts and the desires that still raged through him.

Trembling, he tried to distract himself with his phone. He couldn't let the desires continue. The fantasy was over, the nightmare had ended. That wasn't who he was, and it wasn't what he wanted. The longing in his body began to wane, satisfied for the moment to be distracted. The fear, however, never left him.

If it were a year prior, she may have never caught the tiger's gaze. She would have entered and exited without him noticing. But today…now… _he_ was different. _No, not me. I'm not…_

Stanley knew he could be happy with what society had bound predators with. He knew his civilized mind could be controlled, subdued, satisfied.

However, the primal, darker side of him the Night Howlers had brought to life knew he was lying _._

There was no satisfying a _savage_.


	2. Power

**A/N: Rated M for violence and dark themes.**

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 **Chapter 2: Power**

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" _It is what it is."_

The phrase was tossed around the office daily as a way to slowly ingrain in the minds of the workers there that this existence was normal. It was a simple gesture to reinforce the idea that work, even mundane or pointless work, was an unavoidable part of life. Grievances and complaints about conditions were always met with "It is what it is". Predators needed that type of reassurance, lest their instincts would tell them something was wrong. The placid mind of the evolved predator eventually accepted that illusion. Stanley, however, no longer fit that mold.

The tiger's mind was restless. His entire morning consisted of sitting quietly at his desk inside of a three-walled cubicle. He hated being in a cubicle, the stagnant air around him keeping him locked down like a mental cage. The fourth wall of his prison was the evolved world's idea of moral responsibility, something that was forced into his minds by the education system and the progressive idea that all mammals were equal. If prey could easily maintain their lives in relative peace together, so could Stanley. The things that made predators far superior were now reasons to hold them down in society, simply vestiges of a wilder, distant past.

Aggressiveness. Predators had a tendency to be doers in the world, pushing forward to obtain what they wanted even at the expense of others. This served them well in the jungles, the fields, the forests…but in modern civilization it was a hindrance. Overbearing actions would have them shunned out of organizations and neighborhoods mostly full of the meeker and calmer prey class. Any act of aggression was easily perceived as a _threat_.

Awareness. It was no secret that the majority of predator species had better senses than the prey around them. Smell, sight, _taste…_ Being aware of every mammal around them at all times made predators seem suspicious, nosey, or even downright terrifying to prey. It made them a good choice for military or law enforcement, but society was even shifting away from that. Now anyone could be in those positions; even a _bunny_ could become a police officer these days.

Strength. Predators as a whole were some of the most physically gifted mammals. Toned muscles, fast legs, strong jaws, and a hearty constitution. Even the larger mammals like elephants and rhinos were still susceptible to the strength of a predator in the bygone wild days. The instinctive fear still lingered in the mind of the vast majority of prey, and so the strength of a predator was looked down upon. It reminded them of their constant vulnerability.

In society as it was now, predators were kept on a leash and muzzled by laws, education, and supposed "understanding." The saddest part is that it _worked_. Mammals lived in harmony held up by threads of hope and justice which proved to be stronger than the instincts which threatened their way of life. The road to get there may have been full of prejudice and severity, but it prevailed in making a safe and tolerable world…for _prey_.

A world that, again, was accepted by the calmer mind of a civilized predator. There was simply no place for a savage.

It was the main reason the fear tactic of the Night Howlers worked so well. The illusion that the world had tried to perfect for over a century was shattered instantly by predators that had their civilized minds ripped from them synthetically, leaving only their base instincts to govern their bodies. It reverted them to what prey feared they were all along: killing machines.

Most citizens were completely oblivious to what those who had "gone savage" went through. The assumption was that somehow the serum had forced the mammals to act a certain way, causing them to become vicious beasts straight out of a nightmare. So many family members and friends of the affected predators would reassure themselves "He's not like that" or "That's not my husband" or "She would never act that way" or "What did they do to him?"

The truth was…all the serum did was release who they _truly were_. The instincts that were burned into their DNA laid dormant, and the Night Howlers simply gave that side of them a voice by drowning out the conditioning of society.

It was terrifying…and _exhilarating_. Many of the Night Howler victims _lied._ The overwhelming claim from them was a form of complete amnesia, absolving them of what transpired while they were savage. Legal charges couldn't stick for someone who wasn't aware of their actions. However, Stanley didn't really believe such nonsense. He fully remembered each move he made: the comfort of being on all fours, the rush of stalking his prey, smelling her fear, tracking her down, cornering her, drinking in her scent, and the _glorious_ sensation of tearing into her flesh with his teeth…

His civilized mind returned. _No. It wasn't me._ He took in the sight of his desk before him, the quiet sound of a fan blowing near him, the murmur of the other workers in his office, and the stack of documents for review in his inbox.

A deep sigh escaped him. "It is what it is."

The daydreams and fantasies grew in strength each day as Stanley strove to understand himself. Part of him was disgusted by his actions during his savagery. The psychological therapy he underwent told him "it wasn't you," or "you had no control." Another part of him, however, the darker, primal, _hungry_ side of him, longed for that satisfaction to surge through him again. The sheer _power_ was incredibly pleasing to what he thought were long-lost instincts.

The conflict pulled at his mind and spirit daily now. Stanley understood what was expected of him, what the vast majority of predators had accepted as how life was meant to be. It was a sharp contrast to the darkness rising in himself, getting stronger and deeper with each passing day, and part of him _reveled in it._

The beast inside him had awoken, showing him the world through a new set of eyes.

"Clawson!" the harsh voice exploded in his ears, shattering his thoughts. Stanley roused from his stupor as he noticed his manager standing before him. The portly, middle-aged pig raised an eyebrow as he gained the tiger's attention. "Stop daydreaming and get to work!"

Stifling a growl, Stanley forced himself to comply. "Yes, Mr. Duroc," he sighed.

"What's gotten into you, Clawson? You're even more depressing than you normally are."

"Nothing, sir."

"Well, if it's _nothing,_ then you should be able to get all this work done this afternoon." The pig slapped another stack of papers on Stanley's desk. "Get to it, Clawson."

Breathing in slowly, the tiger forced a smile on his muzzle as he hesitantly obeyed the corpulent pig. "Yes, Mr. Duroc."

Noting his slight attitude, the pig snorted and walked off. Stanley's eyes followed as the pig moved. _He's so small…weak…fat…_

The sudden dissonance rang like a gong in Stanley's mind. He was subservient to _his prey._ The stronger, faster, leaner, far more powerful tiger was at the beck and call of a _pig_. Society as a whole would accept it, but deep in Stanley's primal mind he raged against the sheer insanity. He _feared_ a pig. He _bowed_ to a meek prey. It was completely _unnatural_. The _natural_ course of the world would be completely different. It would have Stanley standing over the pig, demanding respect, imbuing fear, and ending with the pig in his jaws, squealing as he sunk his teeth deeper-

Stanley shook the thoughts away. _No. That's not who I am._

Trying desperately to focus on his work, he began taking papers out of the stack before him for review and processing. It was ritual now, checking off boxes, ensuring accuracy, filing the reports, and repeating the whole process again. It was infuriatingly mundane, but it was a job. The rote actions began to numb his mind slowly, tempering this earlier thoughts. It was almost therapeutic, the slow turn of pages, the swift motions of his pen, the monotony drowning out his environment. He redoubled his focus, moving efficiently through the documents and succeeding in distracting himself.

Time moved unnoticed to him, his busy mind hanging perilously above the darkness…until he reached a paw to his inbox and found _nothing_. His source of distraction was gone, his day speeding by in an unimaginable blur as he snapped to the present. The orange hue of sunlight coming through the window told him it was near the end of the day, many other mammals having already clocked out. He glanced at the clock sitting at the corner of his desk. _5:18PM._

A door to his right closed, pulling his attention towards it. The last co-worker had left. His mind wandered as his eyes scanned the room. He was alone now. Normally, this would be a comfort to Stanley, but as of late, he dreaded being alone. It used to be a time for relaxation, when his vision and smell weren't bombarded with the other mammals around him. Now, the quiet of his office became incredibly disconcerting to him.

After sitting for what felt like a small eternity in the silence, the darkness began to whisper again. It slowly took shape, as if some hole in his heart opened up and a long tendril of blackness began to creep out. The form slithered over his heart, consuming it with whispers and promises of pleasure. He felt the darkness move through his chest, breathing in sharply as it snaked a black hand to his neck. Tightening, the darkness constricted him. It squeezed at his soul, stealing his breath as it consumed him, entering his ears and into his mind to pour forth its demands. It dredged the depths of his heart, finding and amplifying his desires until they burned as a flame within him. The terrifying part, though, was how _wonderful_ it felt to Stanley.

The darkness surrounded him, choking his civilized mind with passion, hunger, lust, and rage. Stanley screamed against it, but the savage was winning. There was no point in denying what it wanted, it had to run its course through him. Thoughts began to tickle in the back of his mind, finding his hidden dreams and fantasies and blowing them up to new levels he hadn't dared imagine.

There was his boss. The fat, ignorant, _disgusting_ pig. Duroc had always hated Stanley. For months after taking the job, he could never figure out why the pig harbored disdain for him.

 _He fears you_ , the savage in him revealed.

He always felt inferior to the smaller mammal, insignificant in his eyes.

 _Pathetic. Unnatural._

Stanley felt weak, unsure, at times even frightened.

 _You are strong. Stronger than a worthless prey._

The image of the pig stood before him, staring at him with hatred and pity.

 _Wipe it from his face. Show him your power._

A low growl came from Stanley's mouth as he stood from his chair. Standing straight, he towered over the pig, forcing Duroc to crane his neck upwards to maintain eye contact. Those eyes, full of disgust and pride…

The rage boiled inside Stanley, causing his emotions and passions to swell in his chest. The resulting tension ripped a roar from the tiger the likes of which he had never experienced. It wasn't a scream, not an insult, not even _words._ Just pure rage and power that flowed through his lungs and escaped his mouth as a primal cry of dominance.

Once it ended, Stanley loomed over the smaller, insignificant pig. Gone was the air of pride, replaced fully with something that made every hair on the tiger's body stand on end with excitement. Pure, unbridled _fear_.

 _Prey._

The pig took a small step back, barely able to turn before the massive paw of the tiger reached out and crashed onto his shoulder, claws extending and locking into the pig's skin. Letting out a squeal, the pig pushed with his other hoof at the paw, using all his strength to remove it and escape. The attempt was futile, however, as Stanley snapped his arm downward, dragging his claws through the pig's skin and tearing down to the bone. Blood immediately began flowing uncontrollably from Duroc's arm, his other hoof reaching up in vain to place pressure on the injury as he began to lose balance. The weakling fell to the ground, his injured shoulder slamming into the floor and splattering blood and flesh.

 _Consume_.

Stanley raised his paw to his face. Small bits of the pig's flesh were stuck beneath his claws and blood covered the arm of his shirt. Calmly, he reached his paw up and dragged it over his extended tongue. The salty, metallic taste of blood sparked something new in him. He allowed the taste to linger, rolling it around his mouth as it mingled with the scent that was now filling the room. Blood and fear...it was _heavenly_ to Stanley.

He gazed forward, following the slow crawl of the injured pig with his eyes. Duroc continued screaming, not that it would do any good. They were alone now, and nothing would stand between the predator and his prey. Reaching the corner of the office, the pig forced himself up against the wall, blood smearing along the floor as he moved. He breathed heavily, speaking to his assailant. The words, mumbled gibberish to the tiger, were useless. Slowly, Stanley bent over, assuming the more natural posture of being on all fours as he approached. He bared his teeth, a rumbling growl emitting from behind the savage maw. His eyes locked onto his prey as he stalked forward.

One pounce, one snap of the jaw. That's all it would take. He hesitated momentarily, the quivering mass of fear before him was his _former_ superior. Society fought against nature, but today nature was winning. The natural order of the world had been reestablished between these two. The _foolishness_ he had held to for so long, the foolishness of the world that believes a predator could be confined through words or ideas, was gone. Now, all that mattered was _power_.

 _Kill_.

Another scream filled the office, followed by a sickening snap and then silence. Blood filled Stanley's mouth as he bit deeply into the pig's neck. The pleasure of his sharp teeth gliding through the flesh, severing the arteries of the neck, drinking in the life of his prey...it caused Stanley to shudder. It was _so good_.

He tilted his head back, the darkness slowly beginning to subside. Giving in to the fantasy pleased his inner savage, allowing it to finally rest for the day. It wasn't the first time he'd done so in order to allow his civilized mind a form of reprieve.

However, this time, the smell of fear didn't fade with the fantasy.

This time, the taste of blood didn't leave his mouth.

This time, the sight of death wasn't erased by opening his eyes.

The nightmare consumed his reality as he noticed the still warm blood on his paws and felt it matting the fur of his chest and neck. The limp, lifeless body of a pig laying before him confirmed the terrible truth to him

Stanley stood, paralyzed with shock. _Oh God...I killed him…_

An evil, dark laugh escaped his mouth as the savage smiled. "It is what it is."


End file.
